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by Toastybird



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Other, for real though it does not end well, in which gordon decides he doesn't have to charge the suit for a while and he'll just do it later, our favorite protgonist has +10 intellect but -10 wisdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastybird/pseuds/Toastybird
Summary: There's no time to stop. There's certainly not time to stand still for several minutes facing the wall plugged into a charger. But even metal muscles give out eventually.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





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**Author's Note:**

> In-game nothing really happens when the HEV suit power drops to 0, except that you lose some armor protection and sprint/flashlight power. But I always figured realistically, if the HEV suit was left 'running on empty' so to speak for an extended length of time it would drain all power and eventually just shut down. Something has to be powering it for it to function at a base level - that's a heavy hunk of metal, and I doubt Gordon's been running/jumping/fighting in nonstop it using just his own muscles.

**_"HEV POWER. TEN. PERCENT."_ **

The sharp, automated warning cut straight through Gordon's thoughts as he ran. He'd heard it nip at him far too many times, about anything from detecting a small cut on his cheek (courtesy of a thorn bush) to blaring in his ear that death was imminent as he tried to drag his broken and bleeding body out of the line of fire. More often than not he'd found it was less than helpful, only serving to distract him from the moment at hand by stating what was already obvious. He didn't need an announcer to tell him that his leg was broken or that he was poisoned, and more importantly, he didn't need something so loud and grating disrupting his focus as it inevitably did.

_**"HEV POWER. EIGHT. PERCENT."** _

This was certainly the case now, as he ducked to narrowly avoid a quick death via a bullet that shattered the window of an abandoned storefront inches away from his head. Three more bullets in rapid succession thudded into his back, stopped nearly immediately by the thick, layered padding. With a shake of his head and a sharp exhale, he picked up his pace. That was too close. _Far_ too close.  
A narrow alley splitting off of the main street offered shelter from the sniper that had pinned down the area. He sprinted inside, the sound of his heavy metal boots clanking against the cobblestone echoing across the courtyard. The HEV suit, while practical, was not made for stealth. There was never an element of surprise. If the amplified warning messages didn't alert nearby enemies, the constant clanging and scraping of metal against metal certainly did. Fortunately, for the most part, this wasn't a problem - zombies were in too much of a painful stupor to care about approaching footsteps, and the Combine could detect incoming hostiles within seconds no matter how quiet he was. As it was, the heavy armor and added strength of the suit usually made it unnecessary for any sort of stealth tactics anyways.

That is, unless his assailant was unseen and out of reach.

**_"HEV POWER. FOUR. PERCENT."_ **

His head whipped around towards the source of a sudden disturbance. Faint, crackly voices sounded from the far end of the alley. Overwatch.   
Quickly, he checked his shotgun; only a few shells left. This was not a fight he could win with brute force alone. A crowbar and a couple of bullets could only do so much, and it was obvious he was outnumbered. 

There. Across the road. An offshoot like this one, leading in the opposite direction. If he could head down that alley, he might be able to lose them. Either way, staying here to be cornered between a squad of Combine soldiers and a sniper was not an option.  
_3....2....1!_  
Puffs of dust and stone shrapnel exploded in his wake as he made a mad dash across the road to shelter. Thankfully, the sniper seemed to have underestimated his burst of speed and failed to lead his shots accordingly.

**_"HEV POWER. TWO. PERCENT."_ **

In brief retrospect, Gordon realized it had been quite a while since he'd last charged the suit. Combine charging stations were few and far between and they always seemed to be in a less-than-convenient area. Truth be told, the idea of turning his back to his surroundings while hooked up to the wall for however long it took the suit to charge up wasn't something Gordon was ever exactly thrilled about. He'd been ambushed far too many times to be foolish enough to put himself in such a vulnerable position. That being said, the suit needed power to function, so he tried to limit his charging stops to the minimum needed. It had come close at times, but never actually reached zero percent power.

The way the suit actually worked was a relative mystery to him. He knew the basics - it gave him extra strength and speed, working similarly to a sort of electrically-powered exoskeleton; it could treat minor wounds, administer anti-toxin, and give morphine shots, among other medical capabilities; it was comprised of layers of thick metal and dense padding. Beyond that, he didn't know much about how it functioned. Especially after Kleiner's modifications. He would have loved to discuss it in detail with him, but as usual, there wasn't time. 

_**"HEV POWER. ZERO. PERCENT. INSUFFICIENT POWER. HEV SHUTTING DOWN."** _

_**\- CLANK -** _

His hands scrabbled against the rough concrete as he tried to gain his bearings. He'd fallen, face first. Tripped? Shot? Broken leg? Nothing seemed to hurt. What had the HEV suit just told him?  
No matter. He was still alive, and that was good enough for now. The sound of harsh voices was only getting louder behind him.

Something was wrong.

He couldn't move.

A wave of terror washed over him as the cold, metal plating began to feel heavier against his chest and back. It pressed in against him at all sides. He couldn't breathe. The interior began to turn uncomfortably hot. Approaching footsteps pounded in his ears, mingling with the deafening sound of his own heartbeat. With all the strength he could muster, he tried to reach for the gun that had fallen just a few feet in front of him.

Just out of reach. His arms felt unusually heavy, like they were coated in a thick layer of lead; no matter how much he strained, he could barely lift them more than a couple of inches off the ground. 

Something released pressure from around his legs. Almost instantly, a spike of excruciating pain shot up his right side. The HEV suit was equipped with an underlayer that constricted and alleviated pressure as needed in order to keep fractured bones in place, even while the user was still up and moving around. Although it wasn't ideal, having the bone aligned correctly and supplementing the user with a little bit of morphine worked wonders. Without power, however, this feature was no longer functional.   
Still unable to move, his body involuntarily twisted and writhed within the confines of the armor. Barely held-back screams turned to agonized groans and whimpers through clenched teeth as he tried to focus his mind to anything else but his leg. He had collapsed at an awkward angle, and the way his leg was twisted behind him applied constant tension to the broken area.

The chestpiece of the suit felt as if it was shrinking, constricting around him as his breaths became more quick and deep. Sweat began to drip down and soak the padding around his neck. He could hear their voices becoming clearer. 

Trying to move his other leg was futile. The boots weighed his feet down like rocks and connected to the shinplates to form a paralyzing metallic prison. The same went for his chest and torso. The main machinations of the HEV suit were stored in the chest and backplate, which was now crushing his ribcage and pressing his face into the ground. Gordon wasn't sure exactly how heavy the suit was altogether, but without power it was dead weight. 

He could make out words, phrases now. Lightheadness overtook him as he dragged his arms back and tried to push himself up, but to no avail. He might as well have been trying to move the earth down beneath him.

Cold sweat mingled with tears and soaked his skin as he began to hyperventilate. He couldn't move. _He couldn't move._ His hands gripped weakly at the ground in front of him as they searched desperately for any handhold he could use to drag himself forward. They caught on crags and bumps in the cobblestone before quickly slipping off again, unable to support his weight. 

His clawing became more frantic as the sound of approaching soldiers grew louder and clearer. The strength in his arms was nearly spent. Footsteps thudded closer and stopped. Although he couldn't turn his head, he knew they were right there. Muffled, synthesised chatter filled the air.

"Heh."

A choked scream tore its way from Gordon's throat as one of the soldiers delivered a swift kick to his leg. The world went white for a moment. Nothing he'd ever experienced before had been quite so painful as this.

Vaguely, distantly, he could feel something cold being pressed to the back of his head. It barely even registered through the pain, but something in his mind realized what it was with a sickening sense of dread. 

"Hostile neutralized. All units stand down."

He gritted his teeth, pressed his eyes shut, and breathed deep.


End file.
